


George Explains It All...

by JustSuperMione



Series: R/Hr canon missing moments [24]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Missing Scene, after the Final Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6484342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSuperMione/pseuds/JustSuperMione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘F. Meet me at the harbour. 7:30pm. H’ the note read. </p><p>The door opened. It was her. His heart stopped. She was more beautiful and yet more terrifying than he’d ever seen her. The light from the setting sun turned her hair brown hair into a deep Weasley red. Her brown eyes sparkled; there was a fire in them. Her mouth was thin and serious. Yep, thought Fred, this girl is meant to be a Weasley wife. </p><p>The relationship between Fred and Hermione... friendship, playful light flirting... not an affair but its a bit complicated - George'll explain better! I am a Ron and Hermione shipper all the way!</p>
            </blockquote>





	George Explains It All...

**Author's Note:**

> Ron and Hermione’s relationship from a different angle is what I do. This story was always going to be something entirely different for me. It’s still part of my missing moment universe. I ship Ron and Hermione... but Fred and Hermione as a couple is interesting too. For the record, I don’t think that the entire Hogwarts male population or the wizarding world is in lust/love with Hermione. They didn’t have an affair... George explains it better...

** George Explains It All... **

It was _finally_ early morning. The sky began to lighten in the distance eliminating some low lying clouds on the horizon. Sleep didn’t come easily here, it didn’t come easily at their... his flat either; but at least here there was the sound of people. Here, the unsettling sound of silence was only for a few hours. Silence didn’t ring creepily in his ears like it did there. The Burrow was never truly quiet; at night, the ghoul banged, the gnomes tried to get in and there were an echoing chorus of Weasley’s snoring. If he listened carefully enough, he could identify whose was whose.

There was something else besides. Step, step, creak, step... Someone was moving from the attic to the bathroom. The footsteps were light and careful. As expected the careful person stopped at the bathroom. He started to wonder if the careful person would continue onto Ginny’s room and how they’d... _he’d_ use that information later on. Unexpectedly, the careful person left the bathroom and continued downwards. Down the careful person came, trying not to make other floorboards creak and groan but that was impossible.

He mentally braced himself. Unsure if he was ready for this but unable to flee...

“George!” exclaimed the young witch wearing a faded cannons t-shirt. Her wild hair was tamed into pigtails, she pulled the collar of the faded t-shirt securely about her neck and wearing a withered _busted_ the expression.

“Well, well, well” he said with a weak grin noting the telltale hicky she was trying to hide. “ _Another_ cannons fan? Who’d-of-thunk-it?”

“Oh ha ha!” Hermione exclaimed sitting down beside him. “If you must know... the shirt was a birthday present last year,” she said primly before swiftly changing the subject. “What are you doing up _Saint_ George...?” she asked looking into his face.

“Well,” George started light-heartedly. “I’m trying to decided what giant prank to pull off tomorrow on Fred’s big day...” that’s as far as he got before he couldn’t continue. The word funeral was taboo at The Burrow; saying big day or celebration of life still didn’t make it any less the day they’d bury his better half. Silently, the big man shed a tear.

Hermione felt helpless. Everyone, in fact, felt impotent when it came to the planning of Fred’s send off.

“You want something bigger than the swamp and fireworks?” Hermione asked in a small voice.

“Exactly...” George sniffed numbly blinking back tears. “I know I’m wearing the purple dragon skin dress robes... Percy’s even ordered some; not purple cos that would be weird... He’s actually trying some stand-up comedy for as a eulogy.” George smiled, his big brother telling jokes and playing pranks was always an incident to treasure. “But it needs more _atmosphere._ I know we need some kind of calypso swing music but other than that... inspiration fails me!”

“You know you don’t have to do it alone don’t you...” Hermione said as she hugged him. “ _Everyone_ will help... we’ll charm... transfigure and confuddle as many people as you think is appropriate.”

“I hear you’re good at the Confundus Charm,” George said innocently.

“What do you...?” asked Hermione cautiously letting go and looking into his eyes.

“McLaggen!” George said pointedly. Hermione blushed and was about to start sputtering when he continued. “Harry told us you ‘helped’ Ron with his Quidditch tryouts!” Hermione looked mortified.

“Don’t worry!” George said smoothly. “McLaggen batting is a family pastime...”

* * *

 

Seventh year, George Weasley was lazing by fire. Extraordinarily, George found himself enjoying a few minutes of calm without Fred. Part of him thought he’d better do some Transfiguration homework, or prepare for tonight’s secret product trail but more than that... A bigger part of him wanted world domination and all the riches and woman that went with it. Not in an evil maniacal way, just in a... just in a part own a joke shop way.

His eyes scanned the room for inspiration. Katie Bell was watching the lovely Angelina playing exploding snap with Alicia Spinnet. They were taking a well deserved study break; books, parchment and quills surrounded them. The three started to laugh, then cackle; George smiled. These were the times in Hogwarts he cherished.

The Creevy brothers were doing their homework together, (helped by Ginny). A large explosion signalled the start of Angelina’s famous (and very sexy) victory dance. Then, something caught his eye, by the window a burly looking sixth year was concentrating on Katie. At first, he thought the idiot was starting at her rear but it wasn’t that... No male looking _there_ would have that strained expression. His lips were pressed together in a grimace and George noticed a telling wand movement: non-verbal spells. _Unsuccessful levitation_ George thought happily. The boy’s face contorted further; looking like _he-no-poo_ rather than...

George grinned: _why be afraid of you-know-you-who when you should be scared of you-no-poo the constipation... err... situation overtaking the nation._ He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote it down. That idea was _priceless_. Their mother would murder them but it would make them a fortune. He scribbled down all idea’s that had suddenly flooded his brain, chortling at the possibilities. When he was finished, he looked up to notice a mane of bushy brown hair retreat up the stairs and a determined Fred approaching.

“Am I happy to see you brother of mine!” they chorused. Their eyebrows arched and they began stare into each other’s eyes. George blinked first and so Fred started talking.

“I heard from the unimpeachable source that _Ickle Ronniekins_ is going to try out for Gryffindor Keeper tomorrow,” Fred cooed rubbing his hands together gleefully.

“ _Hermione_ told you that our brother is going to be trying out!” George said sitting at the edge of his seat: then reasoned. “That explains why he wanted the Cleansweep.”

“Indeed it does. And where he’s been sneaking off to in the evenings,” Fred agreed.

“I’m going for a walk, a pitiful excuse,” George added.

“And here was us _hoping_ that he’d been doing something entirely different,” Fred said coupling a sigh with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

“...which is undoubtedly why you followed her in the first place...” George asked innocently.

* * *

 

“Hang on a minuet... Fred followed me?” Hermione asked feeling a little unnerved.

“Well, he wasn’t following you per-say,” George said in a reassuring way. “He wasn’t a stalker or anything. It’s just with the bet and all... you know about the bet right?” Hermione featured darkened and she nodded. “Funny really; Fred said he thought you knew – but I didn’t believe him...”

“George what does this have to do with McLaggen?” Hermione asked impatiently.

“I’m getting to that...” George said rolling his eyes.

* * *

 

“Anyway,” Fred interrupted as his ears turned pink. “I was helping Hermione with a book in the library.”

“She couldn’t reach another book on the top shelf?”

“Poor dear!” said Fred with a sorrowful nod.  “So I engaged her in light conversation and she admitted that the prefect Ronniekins is going to be the Keeper!”

“She said is _going_ to be the Keeper?” George asked astonished. “Is she a seer or something?”

“No, it’s not _that,_ it’s just she believes in him yadda yadda... we’re too hard on him yadda yadda...” Fred said sounding bored. “ _Anyway_ , what do you think?”

“We are a little hard on him but...” George admitted slowly.

“No, not that you fool,” Fred said with a dramatic eye-roll. “...about _Ronnie’s_ aspirations of greatness!”

“It’s what _we’ve_ always wanted!” George said seriously.  Fred arched his eye brow again. “Okay Ron playing school Quidditch has always been _my_ dream... yours was for him to follow in our footsteps as a prankster before join the joke shop as our house-elf, chief guinea-pie and strategy flunky.”

Fred was just about to admit to George that _Mrs_ _Ronnie_ had ordered them to throw a party for their brother when they were rudely interrupted.

“Hi fellows!” said the previously constipated looking sixth year sounding boisterous. George suddenly recognised him. When this idiot was a first year, he’d gotten angry at them for playing a harmless prank in his dorm. He’d told Percy. Percy has told their mother. They’d gotten a howler.

“Just thought I’d say hi to my new teammates,” said the boy cheerfully. “I’m Cormac McLaggen, the future Gryffindor keeper...”

“Really?” the twins chorused unconvinced. Throughout the years, George remembered this bloke getting more and more frustrated that Oliver hadn’t retired early as Quidditch Keeper. Last year, he’d resembled a Blast-Ended Skrewt when Quidditch was cancelled because of the tri-wizard tournament.  He’d stormed around muttering about it being _HIS_ year.

“Yeah,” he said adamantly, puffing out his chest like a peacock. “ _I’m_ the best keeper this school has ever seen. Better than Oliver Wood... Or anybody!” For a little while he continued boasting about the instances of his skills. Cormac’s rant garnered attention from younger students procrastinating over their studies. “In fact, given all of that, I’m probably better than all you Weasley’s put together!” 

“Er no!” exclaimed Fred looking Cormac up and down.

“What do you mean ‘er no’?” Cormac parroted getting visibly angry. He clenched his fists as if trying to remain calm.

“I mean no!” Fred said definitely. “You don’t have what it takes to be a Gryffindor keeper...”

“Yes, I do!” Cormac muttered through gritted teeth. George couldn’t tell why his twin wanted to upset Cormac. Fred glanced over at George to participate. “I’ve gone to Quidditch camp every summer since before I came to Hogwarts. I can...”

“Can pay for people to play Quidditch with you...” George said astounded in a theatrical way. “Big deal!”

“But to play as Gryffindor keeper you need more than skill,” Fred said confidently throwing a cushion at him. Cormac caught it easily. “You need to prove yourself off the pitch too...”

“What do you mean?” Cormac asked slowly. _Cormac wasn’t in Ravenclaw for a reason_ George realised.

“You have to be brave beyond the ordinary...” Fred said with a wickedly confident grin.

“Like us...” George added looking at Fred.

“Yeah, when we started as second years, we proved ourselves by eating half a pound of doxy eggs!” Fred said with a great degree of satisfaction.

“Doxy eggs!” Cormac exclaimed completely disbelieving this story. “Where did you get them?”

“Doesn’t matter... It was _all_ part of the process!” George replied suddenly sure of what Fred was going to do.

“We actually have doxy eggs for after tomorrows practice,” Fred dropped his voice so that only the three of them could hear.

“Really?” Cormac asked eagerly.

“Of course...” George replied.

“But George,” Fred interrupted. “We can’t use them!”

“We can’t?” George answered honestly confused.

“No,” Fred said definitely. “Angelina won’t risk it! Hermione’s red hot on rules this year. Gone power mad that one _and_ she hate’s Ron eating Doxy eggs by the pound...”

“That’s pants!” Cormac fumed. “Just shows that woman shouldn’t be captain of Gryffindor team!” Neither Weasley twin liked this because Angelina had earned the captaincy.

“Well, after all the testing we’ve done on Ron over the years...” George said looking him in the eye. “The Doxy egg contest isn’t fair on everyone else!”

“I could eat more than him,” Cormac said with more confidence then he felt.

“No you couldn’t,” Fred exclaimed. “You’re all talk... In fact, I bet you couldn’t eat a pound of Doxy eggs and make it to tryouts tomorrow!” At that moment, George knew that his twin was a genius in his own right.

* * *

 

“And Cormac took the bet?” Hermione said in disbelief as she stirred a drink she’d made.

“Yep, gulped down a whole pound of Doxy eggs, couldn’t stand up!” George grinned at the memory. “He spent the rest of the week in the Hospital Wing...”

“I can’t believe he did that!” Hermione said truly shocked.

“Cormac...” George thought aloud.

“No Fred!” Hermione said without thinking.

“Yeah well...” George gulped emotionlessly. “He was a pretty caring guy – you know...” There was an awkward silence. Hermione felt embarrassed. “Fred is... _was_... able to think about others. He loved Ron in his own way you know. Like when he...” George abruptly stopped there. Hermione gazed at him and saw _that_ look in his eye. _That_ look actually made her wonder about a dream she’d been having since Fred’s death.

A dream in which her friend had said goodbye and the unthinkable had happened...

“What did he do George?” Hermione asked dreading the answer.

“Nothing,” George answered definitely. He got up from the table and suddenly didn’t know where to look or what to do. Fred had done something selfless for her and for Ron. Erased a mistake and they’d never know. George started to wander around the kitchen. He couldn’t tell her that Fred had tried to help her failing Romeo.

“Fred cared enough to wipe my memory after we...” Hermione started in a small voice unable to finish the sentence.

“Kissed,” George finished, her eyes widened as he sat down back down.

“Oh no, we didn’t: we couldn’t have,” Hermione said going pale. “Bad Hermione! Bad, bad, _bad_ Hermione,” she muttered. Then, she turned to George curiously. “How do you know?”

“We’re twins... he shares... shared everything with me!” George said awkwardly. “He told me how he used to meet you for breakfast at an ungodly hour on Sundays. That he was there when you were upset at Ron or Harry and wanted to blow off some steam. You’d rant, he’d listen. He’d gaze into your eyes and you’d relax. Ruddy brilliant if you ask me,” George saw that only a blush had come to Hermione’s features. “How did you...”

“After the final battle,” Hermione whispered looking at her drink. “I had a dream... it felt more like a memory but I kept telling myself it was an irrational dream,” she gave a reluctant sigh. “The night before you both left Hogwarts... I begged him to stay... we argued and... and...”

“After you kissed, you...”

“Said Ron’s name,” she admitted.

“You did!” George interrupted astonished. “That, he never mentioned. All he told me was...”

* * *

 

Fred stood leaning against the stone wall of the boathouse. From the adjacent window he looked across the lake; the squid playing fetch with Hagrid. He smiled, fidgeting with the note in his hand.

‘F. Meet me at the harbour. 7:30pm. H’ the note read.

The door opened. It was her. His heart stopped. She was more beautiful and yet more terrifying than he’d ever seen her. The light from the setting sun turned her hair brown hair into a deep Weasley red. Her brown eyes sparkled; there was a fire in them. Her mouth was thin and serious. _Yep_ , thought Fred, _this girl is meant to be a Weasley wife_. He knew they were going to fight. There was no avoiding it. His stomach fluttered nervously but he covered it with a joke.

“Little Miss Perfect Prefect late!” he said standing up straight.

“Sorry,” she said briskly, blushing slightly. “I had to get rid of Ron!”

“Do you need my help burying the body?” Fred asked excitedly clapping his hands.

“Oh ha, ha!” Hermione said humourlessly drawing nearer and looking determined. Fred gulped: he knew that look. He hated that look. It was the look she donned when she was dealing with his brother or Harry. Or that wonderful time she’d shouted at Percy prat after the Quidditch World Cup final.

“What do you want, _Mione_?” Fred asked casually, trying to catch her off balance. With glee he noticed her miss step.

“How do you know _that_ name?” Hermione sighed wearily. She was blushing again but continued walking towards him; still determined.

“ _Ronald_ talks in his sleep...” Fred said with a smile. “Suit’s you though!”

“Freddie,” Hermione said in what she knew what a flirty way. “What are you planning to do tomorrow?”

“Mayhem Mione,” Fred said with a wicked smile. “Pure, beautiful mayhem: I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Yes, you can,” she reassured him with a smile. “You have to. I know it’s more than phase one. I know your planning something _big_ and I need to know what it is so that I can co-ordinate what Harry’s going to do...”

“You’re just going to let him do what he wants?” Fred interrupted before she really got going. He looked at her carefully.

“Course _not_ but that doesn’t mean I don’t need to know your plan,” she said vaguely. Fred knew that tone, he frowned, realising that this wasn’t going to be fun.

“It’s better you don’t know!” he admitted turning away. The last thing he wanted was a fight with Hermione on his final Hogwarts night. He knew that if he kept looking at her, he’d cave.

“Fred,” she said with a pout. “This is serious. You can’t do something that’ll get you thrown out of school. Not this close to NEWTs.” Her tone was one that Fred couldn’t ignore. He turned and saw her brown eyes large and pleading with him; he resolved not to tell her. That didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her though.

“Hermione, I’ve already told you NEWTs don’t matter,” he reassured her. “We’ve done our bit for Dumbledore. Phase two will live in infamy. Better than the fireworks you loved so much. Probably make it into _Hogwarts: a History_.” Hermione held his gaze. It was the chocolate colour of her eyes that coxed out more information that he’d intended. “We’re going to leave full-time education. Fly off into the sunset...” He shut his mouth tightly. His hand flew to cover his mouth but it was too late.

 _Bloody freaking flaming painful hell_ he thought _why did I have to look into her eyes, I always end up spilling my guts?_

A deadly silence fell between them. Hermione mouth hung open; usually Fred would have made a joke but he thought better of it. _Merlin’s pants this was going to be bad._ He waited for her to make the first move.

“What-do-you-mean-‘ _leave_ - _full_ - _time_ - _education’_?” she said through gritted teeth, in a way not too dissimilar to his mother’s. Then, she shirked: “Do you somehow think that you’ve outgrown Hogwarts?”

“George and I aren’t learning anything here,” Fred calmly confessed. “That cow’s seen to that...So we’re leaving school to set up the shop and join the Order!”

“But you’re _SOOO_ close to your NEWTs Fredric!” Hermione pointed out frantically.

“Yes Hermione,” he sighed. It was the resigned ‘yes dear’ tone he used whilst joking with her. Hermione didn’t find it funny. She was incensed, so marched up to him and punched his arm. Hard!

“Ow,” he cried as Hermione stormed away. “Bloody hell, Hermione... What was that for?” He asked frantically rubbing his arm.

“Oh I don’t know, I’m kind of distraught,” Hermione fumed turning away to look out of a window.

“Distraught?” Fred asked looking at her surprised by her melodramatic vernacular. His tone stopped her; why would this be a surprise?

“What do you expect? One of my best friends is abandoning his education because of an odious toad,” she said turning to look at him furiously, her hair becoming wilder that usual. This heart fluttered. To him, she was beautiful but he didn’t _want_ to think that.

“I didn’t know Harry was coming too!” he joked desperately. Part of him knew she was right. Professor toad deserved to be the official experiment of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Their leaving felt like it was letting _Umbridge_ win. Their mother would kill them; and he didn’t want to leave Ron and Hermione to deal with Harry alone.

In his heart of hearts, the part of himself that he couldn’t quiet at night, it was Hermione he didn’t want to leave before he had to. She was everything he wanted the future Mrs Fred Weasley to be: pretty, wickedly witty and intelligent enough to challenge him. The only problem was she was his brother’s girlfriend in all but name and fun deeds. They loved each other and he wasn’t going to come between that.

“Be serious; for once,” she implored trying to catch his eye. “This is important: _REALLY_ important,” Hermione said moving so close he could smell her: summer at the Burrow. The scent intoxicated him. He backed slowly away. She relentlessly continued: “you need as much education as you can get. You’re as much a target as any of us and you-know-who will come after you. You need protection...”

“Hermione,” he said in a low voice directed towards the ground. “We’ve learned all we can from this place. Other people can still learn things here: _hence_ the quiet Easter Holiday’s,” he threw her a smug look. “But we learnt more from Remus and Sirius over the summer than we ever have here. Bill and Charlie’s have taught us more. Dumbledore’s Army was the only challenge left for us...” he looked up and was surprised that she was so close. He gulped. “Now it’s gone... We don’t need N.E.W.T’s to succeed!”

“Fred!” she exclaimed really rather dementedly. “It’s more than you and George success in business. It’s about...”

“He-who-should-not-be-named!”

“Voldemort,” she countered. Using that name had the desired effect. Fred shut up and shuddered. There was an uneasy silence between them; nothing about this was funny. They just stared at each other and it was suddenly completely awful, she couldn’t stand it.

“Don’t-leave-me!” the plea tumbled out of her mouth. It surprised them both she had to explain. “Fight! Don’t let her win! Over how many breakfasts have we planned these few exam weeks? It’s bad enough you’re leaving at the end of the year...” She valued his friendship and he knew that. They’d planned to study for NEWTs and OWLs together. Play the biggest prank on his mother: leave Hogwarts with O’s at NEWT level.

“Hermione, you don’t _need_ me...” Fred muttered honestly. He knew leaving school was the right thing to do... but she wasn’t making it easy. “You’re brilliant on your own without our conversations.” They were standing very close now and he was feeling lightheaded.

Hermione could tell she was making progress. This wasn’t boisterous confident Fred. This was the other gentler side, that wasn’t so self-assured and rarely came out.

“You’re right,” she said steely. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ you available for breakfast, venting frustration and such.” They both blushed at this because it was over these breakfasts that they usually lightly flirted.

“And such... what a wonderful underused phrase,” he grinned, he loved teasing her. She looked slightly embarrassed; but didn’t say anything. Instead, sorrow came to her eyes; without thinking he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. He was her friend, and she needed comfort. He’d seen Ron do this plenty of times; how hard could it be?

Normally, he wouldn’t dare touch her but he needed this closeness, just once. For the second time in his life, _he_ was the hero, usually it was Ron (or Harry) but today it was his turn.

“Hermione, George and I need to become part of the Order,” Fred said in a soothing voice. He imitated his brother by gently rubbing her back. It helped her to relax; which Fred thought was awesome so he continued. “We need to set up the shop and make a difference.”

“You will do... You do now!” Hermione muttered without looking before imploring. “Just finish your final year!”

“Mione,” he pleaded moving his hand to touch her face. “Don’t ask me that... Education just isn’t as important to us as it is to you!”

“Oh Hippogriff poo!” Hermione said through gritted teeth. This display both surprised and amused Fred. He’d known Hermione for five years and her ability to surprise him was fantastic. After spending last summer cooped up in Grimmauld Place, he’d started to think he’d figured her out. He was wrong.

Just like he’d been wrong about the little crush he’d developed for her. To begin with, he hadn’t paid Hermione much attention. She was just another small girl in Ronnie’s year. In fact, the first time he noticed her, she was irritating Ron. Then, as the years developed so had she. She’d started to be someone interesting; like Charming Harry’s glasses at the Hufflepuff match to repel water or shouting at Percy at the Quidditch World Cup.

On the night of the Yule Ball something changed.

Hermione was stunning and for the first time Fred saw why Ron _obviously_ liked her. She’d gotten his attention just by walking into the Great Hall with the biggest pumpkin head in the world. Later, there’d been a fight between Ron and Hermione; a fabulous public barnie*.

Upset, Hermione had slipped away into the crowd and somehow into his arms. His heart had fluttered. That’s when it started: that moment on the dance floor, he’d been the hero. He’d noticed how she fit into his embrace, how soft she was, how beautiful. He’d made her laugh and twirled her round. He wished the night could have gone on like that... Then, the dream had finished, the _pumpkin head_ had returned for her.

Since then, there had been an odd flutter in his chest whenever he saw her. Some Sunday mornings he couldn’t help but wake up early to have breakfast with her. They’d debated SPEW or the similarities between muggles and wizards. However, unlike Ron’s unswerving devotion to Hermione; Fred’s little crush had remained _little_.

Then, over the summer she’d been in danger and only Ron and he had seen it. Fred had spurred Ron on to fight; unable to articulate his own feelings. He’d been privately relieved when they’d been cooped up together in HQ. Spending time there had proved two important facts; one) Hermione wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, George or anyone (which was attractive); and two) Ron and Hermione were obviously completely crazy about each other.

“Hippogriff poo!” Fred repeated in awe of this woman. His eyes searched hers. He was conflicted and they both knew it. “Okay, I agree that education is important. However, we’ve always learnt more by researching and experimenting with ingredients ourselves. If Dumbledore was here, we would stay but with this Umbridge COW... we’re not learning _anything_ and we just think that in the outside world. With the shop and with the Order...”

“I know...” she said as she let her face enjoy his touch. “It’s just; I’ll miss you.” She moved her arms from around his waist to about his neck.

He couldn’t stand looking at her. This person that he cared so much about as a friend: this girl that had grown into the kind of woman he could love. She was so easy to love after you got beyond the whole bossy bookworm thing. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on hers and breathed in.

Fred didn’t know how it started but with the emotion of leaving and all the pent up feelings he had for her at that moment. They were kissing, slowly and unsure at first then more the passion level grew. One of his hands slid slowly up her back and the other when through her hair.

Fred couldn’t believe what was happening: _for someone who had only previously ‘gotten off’ with a pumpkin head; Hermione’s a natural. It was wonderful but not the kind of amazing that he’d been imagining for over a year. There were no fireworks. He’d expected fireworks._

* * *

 

Hermione had to interject something here. The memory she had was so strong and vivid that she had to tell George...

“He couldn’t remember how it started?” Hermione laughed. “I’ll tell you how... I gave him a peck on the lips goodbye – it was totally innocent and impulsive. Then, he pecked me back – but it lingered, it was sweet and tender then... it heated up... we were snogging!”

* * *

 

Hermione sighed happily, so he reasoned that this must be a good way to say goodbye.

For Hermione, the kiss started as an impulsive peck. She was in shocked that he’d responded. With Fred she’d expected an incredible feeling to overwhelm her. There was a hint of peppermint toothpaste on his breath and she was transported to the last time she was kissed.

Stolen moments that were so exhilarating she relived them as daydreams. Every time she was in the library she remembered fleeing from the Umbridge’s Squad with _him_. Then, their desperate need to snog took over all reason and pretext. There was something difference in _this_ kiss. She didn’t have to stretch so high and he wasn’t stooping. His hand went to her hair and she realised, she’d missed this. She loved snogging _him_.

 _He_ was everything. Her hormones raced with longing. Being held and being loved was intoxicating. All the time they’d kept a lid on this relationship for Harry’s sake. She didn’t care anymore; she was sixteen, in love with her best friend and she didn’t care who knew it. His lips moved away but they still tingled.

She uttered the name of the one she loved. The one who’s kisses set her mind, body and soul alight. The person who shone so brightly in her life that he’d taken over much more of her time and thoughts than she’d ever thought possible.

* * *

 

“So I sighed Ronnie,” Hermione admitted holding her hands up.

“Ronnie?” George asked slightly disgusted. This was information was comedy gold.

“Yeah,” Hermione said completely embarrassed. “I usually moan Ronnie when I kiss my boyfriend.”

* * *

 

“Ronnie!” Fred exclaimed shocked. “I kiss you goodbye and you say my brother’s name?”

“What have I done?” Hermione uttered, looking at him distressed and backing slowly away.

“We kissed and you said my brother’s name,” said Fred with a wry smile amused by the bittersweet moment.  

“When Ron kisses me, that’s what I usually exclaim..!” Hermione admitted with a smile. Then, a thought struck her, horrified she added. “I’ve betrayed him! Betrayed Ron! All our moments, all our... What have I done?” She began to look ill. Her hand shot to her mouth and she tried to breath, calm steadying breaths.

“You said that already Hermione!” Fred exploded amazed. _Snog Hermione, make her sick, nice one Freddie_ he thought. “...when did you kiss Ron?” Hermione didn’t hear him as she was muttering to herself:

“He’d never betray me like this! I mean I’ve nursed a soft spot for you for awhile Fred... cos you’re Fred... attractive and charming; funny and intelligent. A great friend even if you have no respect for the rules. And in another life...” she thought aloud. “And in another life _maybe_... But I _love_ Ron. I mean I _really_ love Ron,” she said in a daze. “He’s my best friend. The first person I ever kissed... He’s handsome and intelligent but doesn’t know it and he’s completely un-charming most of the time but sometimes, when it’s just us...” she rambled with a far off look in her eye. “Like when he tried to protect me before the second task!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Fred implored his mind reeling. He grabbed her to steady himself and her. “Hold your hippogriffs. You’re making no sense, Mione. I have a brother called Ron, lanky ginger git that you’re in love with.” Fred said slowly Hermione meekly nodded. “And you’ve snogged him?”

“We don’t snog,” Hermione corrected sharply, before continuing in a very un-Hermione-ish way. “We kiss. It’s a sonnet! Like, like Juliet’s description of kissing Romeo. Or is it Romeo’s description – it’s a worshipful prayer! And those feelings for him just flooded me when I was kissing you...” Fred looked disgusted but Hermione was in mid-realisation so ignored him. “I was remembering, him in the library. I’m sixteen, in love and it’s the scariest and most wonderful thing in the world.”

“You and Ronniekins are together!” Fred exclaimed truly shocked and slightly pained. This was awful; beyond awful. He’d kissed his brother’s secret girlfriend. “Getting to know each other... Hanging out... Chatting with an extra _zing_... Having fun snogging on prefect rounds... Have you played with his wand?” Hermione looked dubious. He sighed: “Are you like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes!” Hermione answered automatically. “No!” she added frowning. “I don’t know. When no one’s watching and we’re together I think we’re... But then... then we’re not; because of Harry... ”

“How long has this been going on?” he asked more calmly than he felt.

“Why: want to exploit this information for your little bet?” she spat. Fred was past reeling from shock tonight. A sorrowful goodbye, a blissful kiss had just been shattered by the light of truth. Then, she asked the kicker. “Have you ever been in love Fred?”

“I...I don’t know,” he admitted looking at her. He once thought was in love with Hermione, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Well, if you were in love you’d know!” she was so sure. Fred knew without a doubt. Hermione really loved Ron and this incident would affect them all. He hadn’t meant to kiss her; it was just something he’d spontaneously done.

Then, Hermione’s featured darkened.

“Oh Merlin! How can I ever look at Ron again?” Hermione was truly freaking out and suddenly Fred knew what he needed to do; he held her still for a moment. She stopped struggling.

“Calming breathes!” he suggested. She closed her eyes. Fred looked completely determined; he moved his wand hand, pointing it at her head.

Steeling himself he whispered: “Hermione, this was great but...” 

* * *

 

“Then poof!” Hermione muttered. “He took the memory away...”

“That I guessed!” George mumbled remembering how shaken Fred been when he got back; how guilty he’d looked when he was talking to Ron that night; and how he’d scanned the crowd for her one last time when they’d been about to leave! George only found out what happened when Fred got wrecked after Ron’s birthday mishap! “That was the hardest thing he’s ever done...” George stopped short then corrected himself. “Ever did.” There was an all engulfing silence in which they both felt the weight of their loss. “...taking that memory away..!”

“After Ron was poisoned...” Hermione said quietly. “When I was shouting at Lavender...” 

“I know,” George replied wiping his nose on his sleeve. “We heard from inside.” George said with a weak but wicked grin.

“Fred tried to stop me cursing her,” she continued like he hadn’t said anything. “I was so upset with myself about Ron. He’d been trying to apologise since Christmas and I was so stubborn; then, he’d begged me to talk to him for a day. I was going to. Then, I was upset with Fred for leaving me without saying goodbye!” She turned her attention to the window. “He didn’t say anything... He just looked... sad!”

The sun was rising and it would be a wonderful looking day. Pinks and gold’s shone in the sky through the silhouettes of the trees and outhouses. There was a long pause in which George put the kettle on again: needing to be busy. When he turned back around Hermione looked glum.

“What ya thinking?” George asked curious as to what this would all mean. Part of him wanted to get the key facts about Hermione and Ron’s relationship so he could start paying out on the bet. For five years, they’d been taking student’s money as to when Ron and Hermione’s first kiss would happen. Even staff members had thrown their cash in.

A larger part of him wanted to know what she felt; whether she loved his brother as much as he’d always feared.

“I’m wondering when you found out and how I’m guna tell Ron?” she sighed miserably.

“Well, I suspected something happened as we were preparing to leave Hogwarts...” George started. “But I didn’t know details until after your fight with Lav-Lav...”

* * *

 

“It’s a funny old world brother of mine!” Fred slurred while cradling his bottle of Firewhisky. After getting back home from seeing Ron in the hospital wing, he’d gone straight for it. Fred’s toasting had started; _‘here’s to Harry Potter and another Weasley saved!_ ’ Now, an hour later, his celebration that their brother would be fine had morphed into something that George had never seen.

“Why’s that Freddie?” George asked less intoxicated.

“Freddie!” he repeated bitterly. “Freddie is what she called me last time... Last time, I held her in my arms... first time... only time... when I found out that thing that I’m _never_ going to tell you!” That sparked George’s interest.

“Who but me and mum calls you Freddie, _Freddie_?” George asked sitting up and peering at his twin like a stranger. It was very rare for them to hide anything from each other. It gave him hope because he was secretly writing letters to Angelina. Fred ignored him.

“It’s alright for you Georgie? Fred hiccupped sloshing his drink. “You’re in love...” George’s heart stopped. “Angelina’s a beautiful woman, intelligent, loves Quidditch... Unlike _Her_... Well, she only likes one Quidditch player.”

 _Of course Fred knows_ he sighed. _Noisy git!_

“What’s love got to do with it?”

“Everything,” muttered Fred before having another swing. “Ya see... _SHE_ loves him. And I never REALLY actually loved her. I had some of the symptoms but... No fireworks, brother of mine, no rush! Plenty of zing, but no connection...”

“Hermione,” George asked suddenly feeling a lot more sober. “You’re talking about Hermione, aren’t you?”

“SHHH,” Fred giggled loudly. “Can’t talk about Mrs Ronnie... Mrs Ronnie wouldn’t like it... doesn’t know that I know... She doesn’t... she forgot...”

Mrs Ronnie had been Fred’s private jokey name for Hermione since it had become clear that the two were destined for something other than friendship. George never used it but enjoyed watching Ron squirm when Fred did. Since the Yule Ball, those jokes had stopped for the most part. George was confused so let his brother babble on till something made sense. 

“She loves him...” Fred said after a few moments. “ _Really_ loves him. He loves her too... which is just too bad because she kisses like a genius Georgiepie.”

“WHAT!” he exclaimed surprised, spilling some of his drink on himself. When could Fred have kissed Hermione? He knew that Fred had nursed a soft spot for Hermione. He suspected that whenever he used that nickname but kiss her?

“She sucks and nibbles and it’s not too wet. Oh she tastes so good!” He slurred completely losing focus. Then, he started to rant again. “The night before we left school she tried to get us to stay. And we would have. I would have called the whole bloody thing off if we hadn’t snogged... I was a little lovesick puppy then BANG – we’re snogging but there were no fireworks..! The lovesick puppy stuff was the surface stuff... But she... Before then, though, she hadn’t realised... It’s Ron she wants to be with Forge! That’s why we made her that daydream, and gave him the _‘Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches’_ book. What a joke George...”

That wasn’t strictly true: Bill had threatened them into handing over that book.

“Freddie, the jokes on you then, innit?” George hiccupped, truly enjoying himself. “Ron needs a book about how to break-up with blonds!”

* * *

 

“ _Oh_ he was such a coward about Lavender,” Hermione smiled fondly. “He didn’t want to break her heart but it was unavoidable: as is telling Ron.”

“And as for how you’re going to tell Ronniekins,” George said sombrely pointing his wand at Hermione’s head.

Poof the memory was gone _again_... This time, George carefully removed a slither of silver memory.

The next thing Hermione knew her head was on the kitchen table, the sun was up, and her drink was cold in her hand. George was across the table from her looking amused.

“George? What happened?” Hermione asked sleepily rubbing her eyes.

“Can’t believe you fell for it again Hermione!” George exclaimed gleefully. “I put a weak sleeping draught in your drink...

“What do you mean _again_?” Hermione asked sitting bold upright. George seemed to ignore her.

“Although, it does give me a great idea for what we can do for Fred...” he honestly grinned. “A countdown of his best pranks... maybe with practical demonstrations. Number ten) slipping you a weak potion of draught of the living dead at Ronnie’s Keeper party!”

“That never happened...” Hermione stated factually, before considering the event.

* * *

 

Earlier that day, Fred had jested about getting revenge on Hermione for threatening to tell their mother about testing on firsties. George had been bored and thought it was a brilliant idea. He’d been the one to actually do the brewing and spiking, much to Fred’s displeasure. George reminded Fred that she deserved it for pulling the mum card.

Unfortunately, Ron had overheard.

“You spiked my _girlfriend’s_ drink!” he seethed towering over them. His ears were red; his two fists were white. Suddenly, he wasn’t Ronniekin’s; he was a man standing up for his girl. Harry and Hermione had gone to bed; they were helpless. Both a little scared: it was like when Dad got angry.

“He spiked it!” Fred protested pointing the finger at his twin. “I would never do that to your _girlfriend_!”

“It was your idea!” George countered trying to look innocent. “I would never think of hurting your _girlfriend_!”

“You know she’s not my _girlfriend_ , girlfriend!” Ron spat at them still furious. “She’s my friend that’s a girl...” He reasoned. “But that’s not important...” He loomed over them and growling in a low dangerous voice warned: “Hermione’s off limits,” he looked between them. “Don’t prank her, don’t even try... Do it again and you’ll be a whole lot of sorry... Got it?”

“Yes Ron,” they’d meekly chorused before making their way to bed.

* * *

 

“It did happen..!” George said focusing on Hermione. “It was the only time we ever left a party early.” Then, he needed to change the subject. “Why are you wearing Ron’s old shirt?”

“Because it smells like him,” she grinned before smelling the shirt happily. “It smells like my boyfriend Ronald B Weasley!” she giggled. “We were so close for so long and now...” she sighed happily. The sigh degenerated into a yawn.

“Hermione go back to bed,” George said. “Mum’ll be down here soon and I’m guessing she doesn’t know about the shirt.” Hermione blushed and headed for the stairs. “To your own room Missy... We don’t want you corrupting Ronniekins, now!” George explained with a real grin. She left without delay.

As George watched her go he felt happy for the first time since Fred left him. He reached into his pocket and picked out a vile. Within it, was a spiralling the silvery, shimmering substance that was neither liquid nor gas. He’d keep this safe because it was a piece of Fred.

“Looks like I’m the hero this time,” he said to the vile with a satisfied smile. “You’re welcome, brother-of-mine.” 

**Author's Note:**

> *barnie is a brilliant English word for argument.
> 
> So, this is what happened between Fred and Hermione in my universe before the twins flew off into the sunset.   
> If you like this I might write two other stories after set after this... What George Couldn’t Explain: the moments that George didn’t know about... and Fred’s funeral complete with Percy stand-up and Fred’s top ten pranks.


End file.
